


Good Girl

by YanderexBabydoll



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Oikawa's an asshole, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Yandere, protective Suga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24378718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanderexBabydoll/pseuds/YanderexBabydoll
Summary: You can break up with him, you can transfer to Karasuno, even sign on as their manager, but you can't hide from Oikawa forever.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Sugawara Koushi/Reader
Comments: 36
Kudos: 536





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First Haikyuu fic, hope you don't mind me indulging in another fandom haha - I am weak for these guys

Where the hell is it?!

You bite back a growl of frustration, ignoring the anxiety that spikes through your veins as you bend over to check under the seats. You’d spent almost all day in the stands, sitting in the same seat, aside from running down to the court once or twice to check in with Kiyoko and the team… it had to be here somewhere!

“Karasuno, huh?”

You freeze at the soft, lilting voice behind you, but only for a moment. _Shit_. Your eyes squeeze shut and you take a deep breath, squaring your shoulders as you right yourself and turn to face him.

Leaning against the railing of the stands, arms folded across his chest and that smug little smirk you’d grown to hate plastered across his face, is Oikawa.

The very last person you want to see right now.

His grin widens as he meets your gaze, but it’s nothing like the smile he gives his fans and the cameras, no - it’s a little _too_ sharp, a little _too_ hungry. You wish more than anything that the sight of it didn’t send your heart racing, but it does. Seeing your ex, being this close to him after what happened, it puts you on edge.

But you were prepared for this ever since Daichi told you that you were coming with them to the inter high preliminaries. Still, you had hoped… being the team’s second manager, and such a new one at that, you weren’t allowed to sit court side - it was foolish maybe, but you’d crossed your fingers and prayed to anybody listening that sitting in the stands among hundreds, he wouldn’t notice you.

As if Oikawa could ever be that careless where you were concerned.

“Hey cutie,” he all but purrs, pushing himself away from the railing to saunter closer.

Your gut clenches and a shiver ripples down your spine, but you force a polite smile on your face all the same, “Oikawa,” you acknowledge blandly.

It doesn’t escape your notice that the two of you are entirely alone - there’s not another soul in sight, everyone having cleared the gym ages ago. No doubt why he’d chosen now of all times to pop up. You try not to let it unnerve you, unable to stop yourself from glancing at your only exit route; the stairway he’s conveniently blocking off. Instinctively, you skitter backwards.

He pouts at the impersonal greeting, “Aw, c’mon sweetheart, don’t be like that. I know you’re still upset, but don’t you think this is a little bit of an overreaction?”

And despite the warning bells tolling in your head, a flash of anger jolts right through you. Your eyes narrow, “… An _overreaction_?”

Oikawa chuckles, shaking his head. “We had a fight - I was going to give you the space to cool off a little, like a good boyfriend, so I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when you suddenly stop showing up at school and I find out from _Iwa_ of all people that you transferred to Karasuno,” he scoffs, his dark eyes flickering over your new uniform with barely concealed disdain. “And now what, you’re their new volleyball manager? If I didn’t know better, babe, I’d think you were trying to make me jealous.”

He reaches for the collar of your jacket, but you jerk away from his touch before he can make contact. “We didn’t have a fight, Oikawa-”

“Tooru,” he corrects, a flicker of irritation in his eyes.

You ignore him. “-we broke up - because you were being a controlling, manipulative asshole, and I left Seijoh because I knew you weren’t going to let me go any other way.”

Another scoff. “That’s hurtful, Y/N,” he says, bringing a hand to his heart with a mocking pout. 

“I don’t care.” You glance back down at the court - still empty. Not good. Surely some of the boys would notice you’d been gone for just a little too long, or Kiyoko maybe. Coach would kill you if you kept holding them up! With a flutter of panic, you realised that you hadn’t told any of them where you were going - the moment you’d realised your phone wasn’t in your jacket pocket, you’d just run. “We broke up, Tooru. I left. I’m not your girlfriend, I’m not your anything anymore. Now please, just- just go,” you say quietly, trying to use that same calming tone you used to use whenever he’d get worked up when you were together.

It doesn’t have the intended effect; Oikawa frowns and your heart skips a beat. It’s not that playful, derisive expression you were used to - no, there’s something dark and cold glinting in his eyes, and it sends chills running down your spine. “You know I love you more than anything, baby, but you’re really starting to piss me off.”

You raise your palms in front of your chest, “Oikawa-”

“I was watching you today,” he says, cutting you off completely. “Do you have any idea how infuriating it was to watch that stupid third year spend the entire day pawing at my girlfriend?”

Huh?

His words are so unexpected that it takes you a moment to comprehend what he’s actually saying - what he’s accusing you of.

“… Daichi?” you ask bewilderedly, thinking back over the course of the day as to when the Karasuno Captain had touched you. Sure, he’d given you a high-five and ruffled your hair after their first win of the day, but Asahi had done the same, and so had Tanaka and Noya for that matter. Hinata had even hugged you! They were a tactile team- more so than Aoba Johsai at any rate - but you can’t see how he can think that there’s anything between you and Daichi based on that alone.

Oikawa rolls his eyes, scoffing. “Don’t play dumb. I’m not talking about your fearless Captain-” you don’t miss the contempt just _dripping_ from the title, “-I’m talking about Mr Refreshing. Always touching you, stealing your attention… He’s practically your shadow, and a particularly _clingy_ one at that.”

You jerk back, eyes widening in surprise. Suga?!

Sure, you’re probably closer to Sugawara than anyone else on the team, but to think that he and you…

You shake your head. It’s ridiculous. Suga’s affectionate with you, but no more so than he is with anyone else. The hugs, the arm he’d throw over your shoulders on their breaks, the casual, stray touches you barely even notice, they’re not like… _that_. He’s a friend, probably your best one now that you’ve moved to Karasuno, but that’s all there is between you.

He’s… he’s a friend.

Oikawa’s watching you with hawk-like intensity, and his eyes narrow dangerously when your cheeks flush a faint pink. “I suppose I should thank him; after all, watching him cling to you like an overgrown parasite was certainly excellent motivation for the second match this afternoon, but you, cutie,” he breaks off with a tsk, shaking his head. “I think you need a reminder of who exactly you belong to.”

Your stomach drops, pure panic spiking through your veins, but before you can even think to move, Oikawa’s in front of you, pushing you up against the back wall.

His lips are on yours before you can even squeak out a cry, and he wastes no time in prying your jaw open to slip his tongue inside your mouth. If you were less terrified, less of a coward, you might have bitten down on the offending appendage, but all you can manage is throwing your fists against his chest and beating against him in an effort to shove him off.

It’s about as useful as pushing against a brick wall; despite his slender build, he’s deceptively strong - he doesn’t budge an inch. He grins at your efforts, chuckling as he brings up a hand to tangle in your hair, keeping you close. There’s nothing sweet or tender in the kiss, it’s rough and demanding and almost bruising in its intensity, but Oikawa doesn’t seem to care. He moans into the kiss like it’s heaven on earth, his tongue trying to coax yours into playing along, but even if you wanted to - you’re frozen still. Time seems to slow, all you can focus on is him - the burning sensation of his lips moving against yours, the familiar taste of him, the feel of his body pressing up against yours - god, even his fucking scent, it’s clouding your head, making it difficult to even _think_ straight.

It’s only when your head starts to spin from the lack of oxygen that he momentarily breaks the kiss, catching your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging as he pulls away. His chocolate brown eyes sweep across your face as he grins widely, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. His thumb tenderly brushes against your soft skin, “My beautiful girl, I’ve missed you.”

You open your mouth to reply, to tell him to stop or maybe just shout, but he doesn’t give you the chance. You’re so focused on the kiss that you almost miss Oikawa’s other hand drifting across your waist, at least until you feel his fingers at the waistband of your pants - you jolt, hands tightening around the material of his jacket, but he doesn’t stop. You struggle fruitlessly against him as those long fingers slip into your pants, toying with the edge of your panties for a second, just long enough for the panic and terror to rear their ugly heads and tears to prick at your eyes, before he slides under them too. “Shh, sweetheart. This is your own fault you know,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss against your burning cheek. “If you’d just been a good girl for me…”

You can’t help but cry out as his hand cups your sex, his middle finger sliding between your folds teasingly, “I’ve missed this pretty pussy.” He says it so sweetly as he peppers your face with kisses, just like he used to. If you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend that you were back in his room, that he was still the boy you’d fallen in love with years ago and that this was something that you actually wanted.

But it wasn’t, and that boy was long gone.

He coos as you shudder, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks, and buries his face into the crook of your neck. “Oikawa, p-please,” you shudder.

He hums contentedly, his fingers still working away at your pussy. You can’t fight the strangled gasp that leaves your lips when two of his fingers slide inside of you, searching for that familiar spot he just knows will make you moan for him. “After we beat Karasuno tomorrow, I think I’ll fuck you in the locker room, remind you of how a real winner takes care of his girl,” he says, grinning against you when he feels you stiffen. “Would you like that, cutie? For me to fuck you after I win against your pathetic little boyfriend?”

You realise as he pulls away from you slightly and stares into your eyes that he’s expecting a response, but between his fingers still pumping in and out of your cunt and the fear that’s surging through you, you’re utterly paralysed.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

You almost sob at the familiar voice calling from the court below. With the way that Oikawa had you cornered against the wall, you can’t see Suga, but you hear him - the pounding of his shoes against the vinyl flooring as he races towards the stands.

Oikawa glances down with a huff. “Speak of the devil,” he growls, and you don’t miss the way his jaw tightens as he shoots Suga a glare, but it’s gone a moment later when he looks back at you. He smiles, brushing his lips against yours one last time as he pulls his hand out of your pants. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” he says with a wink, bringing his wet fingers up to his mouth-

Your stomach lurches as he sucks on the long digits, savouring the very taste of you. He smirks wickedly down at you as he pulls them out with an obscene ‘plop’ that makes you shudder and flush. “Be good for me, won’t you?” he says with a laugh, and just like that, he turns around and saunters away.

He passes Suga as the setter comes barrelling up the staircase - you hear a brief snarl and a laugh as they exchange heated words, but you can’t do anything but slump against the wall and gasp for breath, trying desperately to calm your racing heart.

“Y/N?” Suga’s face swims into view, his brows knitting together as his hazel eyes flicker over you with almost methodical precision. You can only imagine what he’s seeing; hair all mussed up, your lips red and swollen from being kissed, silvery tear tracks running down your reddened cheeks, clothes a rumpled mess.

With a sob, you throw your arms around him, clinging to him as if he’s a lifeline. It only takes a second before he reciprocates, pulling you tighter against his chest, rubbing a reassuring hand up and down your back.

You don’t think you’ve ever been happier to see your best friend.

You feel him take in a deep, shaking breath. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. He’s gone Y/N, he’s gone. You’re safe with me.”

He’s never been anything but gentle with you, and you think you might love him for it today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karasuno loses to Aoba Johsai, and Oikawa comes to collect

They lost.

You were so sure - but then right at the end…

It felt like a gut punch. Not because Seijoh won, or even because of Oikawa’s smug beaming grin as he tackled Iwa and Makki to the ground in victory, but because of the absolute devastation on each and every member of the Karasuno team’s faces.

They’d come so far, worked so hard, and even though there would be other chances for them to make it to nationals, it was a crushing blow. You’d only been their manager for a few months, but even in that time you’d come to care deeply for them. They were _your_ team! It hurt more than you thought it would to see them so beaten down and defeated.

Dinner afterwards had been all but silent. Were you supposed to say something, offer support or reassurances, try and fire them up for their next match? Or was it better to keep quiet, let them process their devastating defeat?

In the end, you kept your mouth shut. 

It was awful, and there was a part of you that almost felt guilty sitting there between Daichi and Suga like you didn’t quite belong. For every point Oikawa had taken from them today, he’d shoot you a wicked grin, a wink, even going so far as to blow you a kiss after winning the first set. Your team knew of your history at Aoba Johsai, though maybe not the full extent of your relationship with their star setter and Captain, but watching their confused looks turn into anger as they glanced between the two of you made you wish the earth would open up and swallow you whole.

It wasn’t that they blamed you, Suga had told you when you’d rushed down to see them during the brief break between sets, but because they knew he was doing it just to demoralise them. He’d squeezed your hand, pulling you down to the bench to press a lightning quick kiss against your cheek.

Your cheeks had blazed red and you’d jerked away with a soft gasp, your eyes darting around to see if anybody had seen. Daichi and Asahi were suddenly _very_ focused on their water bottles, smirks cracking through abysmal poker faces - Daichi’s abrupt, choked cough was hardly subtle, either. Behind you, you heard Coach snickering quietly to himself, but when you spun around he too was intently studying some of the notes Kiyoko had compiled, resolutely refusing to meet your eye. 

Oh, no.

They were gonna give you hell for this later, weren’t they?

You almost smiled, you would have too, if you hadn’t felt a strange prickling sensation on the back of your neck - the unmistakable feeling of being watched. You knew even before you turned who it was, but you couldn’t seem to stop yourself as you glanced back over your shoulder to the other side of the court, your heart leaping into your throat.

Sure enough, Oikawa was standing off to the side with Iwa and Makki, the latter of whom was chatting aimlessly at his ear, but he didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the wing spiker. No, Oikawa was staring right at you, dark brown eyes wide and _blazing_ , his face twisted yet somehow carefully blank. It’s a look you recognised all too well, one that sent a shiver rolling down your spine, made you want to run, hide, disappear entirely.

His rage was palpable, it froze you in place.

He didn’t look away for a long moment, and you could only stand and watch as the corners of his lips twitched up into a faint, frightening smirk.

“-It’s not gonna work, though,” Suga had said with a confident smirk, suddenly snapping you out of your trance and pulling your attention back to him and the team as he’d wound his fingers through yours and squeezed. You’d almost believed it for a little bit, too - they’d subbed him in shortly after and he was… _incredible_. People often underestimated him, especially with Kageyama on the court, but you’d never seen Suga play like _that_ before. He was brilliant out there, they all were.

But it still wasn’t enough.

Seijoh were relentless in the second set, like somebody had lit a fire under their asses, and as good as Karasuno had been, you’d never seen Oikawa dominate the court so aggressively. He was like a man possessed out there and honestly, it was a little terrifying.

The only upside to losing had been that there was no time to linger at the Sendai gym. From the moment your feet touched the court after that final whistle had blown you hadn’t been left alone. Even in their dejected silence, your team had stuck by your side. Maybe Suga had told them about what happened the day before, or maybe they were just trying to seek out some semblance of comfort from you too.

Either way, you were all loaded into the bus and heading back home within twenty minutes. You’d barely even had a chance to glance in Seijoh’s direction after the match ended. All your fears and worries about his promises turned out to be a waste of energy.

Yet your lingering guilt, however misplaced, didn’t let up through the team dinner. Not even Suga's warm hand in yours was enough to draw a smile out of you.

_“After we beat Karasuno tomorrow, I think I’ll fuck you in the locker room, remind you of how a real winner takes care of his girl. Would you like that, cutie? For me to fuck you after I win against your pathetic little boyfriend?”_

Oikawa’s promise plays through your head over and over like a broken record as you walk home with Suga. There’s nothing to say - well there is, there _has_ to be - but you don’t want to accidentally say the wrong thing either, so it’s easier just to keep your mouth shut. He hasn’t brought up the kiss from earlier, and you don’t have the guts to do it yourself. Your head’s still spinning from the last two days, and you can only imagine his is too, maybe it’s better for both of you to just pretend like it didn’t happen, until things calm down a little, that is…

You just can’t bear the thought that he might regret it. He’s been your rock ever since you transferred, you can handle just being friends, but you’re not quite sure you could take it if he didn’t want that anymore either.

“You know, despite losing out there… I’m really glad you were there today,” he says when you eventually reach your house. The lights are all off and there’s not a peep from inside - your parents are both out of town for work for the rest of the week. You’re almost glad, because Suga wastes no time at all in stepping in close, cupping your face and kissing you gently on the front porch.

It’s soft and sweet, it makes your stomach fill with butterflies and when he pulls away your cheeks aren’t the only ones flushed.

“Tomorrow we’ll regroup and get back to work. It won’t be easy, we’ve taken a hit but I know we’re stronger than this. We can beat Seijoh and we can beat Shiratorizawa, too.” 

He’s talking about volleyball again, but your head’s still kind of spinning and you can’t quite keep up. He must notice the slightly dazed look in your eyes because he laughs, pulling you into a tight hug. “And we can talk about us too, I promise,” he whispers into your ear.

He leaves you there, grinning like a fool. 

Today was rough as hell, but maybe it wasn’t _entirely_ awful.

You’re still smiling as you slide the keys into the lock, pushing the front door open and stepping inside. Home. 

It’s not all that late, but the moment your bag drops to the floor your exhaustion hits you like a tidal wave. You force yourself to shower at least, standing under the steaming spray with your eyes shut until the hot water starts to run out. It’s not like anybody else is home to use it, you might as well take advantage.

It’s heaven, the hot water on your aching muscles. You hadn’t even been on the court today, but between all your cheering, your desperate attempts to hide from Oikawa’s heated gaze, trying to rally the team and dealing with the fallout after they lost… you’re drained. All you can think about is sinking into your mattress and sleeping for a solid ten hours. Well… until your alarm clock wakes you up for school, at any rate.

With a towel wrapped snugly around your body, you slip from the bathroom, your eyes already droopy with the promise of a warm bed so very, very close. 

You make it three steps into the hallway before you stop dead in your tracks.

There, sitting on the edge of your bed, propped up on his arms with his long legs stretched out and ankles crossed, looking far too at home in your bedroom, is Oikawa.

A lazy grin creeps across his face as his eyes meet yours, “Sorry I’m late, baby. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting for me, but Makki and Mattsun just _insisted_ on going out to celebrate our win.”

Your heart thumps unsteadily and a quick breath leaves your lips and some part of you distantly registers that he’s still wearing his uniform - you don’t know why it’s the only thing you seem to be able to focus on.

His eyes sweep across your body, clad only in a fluffy white towel, and his grin widens. “I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in.” 

He shifts slightly, straightening himself up, and you catch a glint of something silver and shiny from the bed; your keys, you realise belatedly - rather, the spare set you kept hidden under the potted flowers on the front porch. Your gut twists, ice creeping through your veins. But you really shouldn’t be surprised - of course he knows where the spare keys are, you were the one who showed him where to find them months ago. ‘ _Just in case you ever need them_ ,’ you’d told him with a shy smile.

Your eyes flicker back to his face and he’s watching you, watching the gears tick over in your head as you try and process the scene in front of you.

There’s a niggling sensation somewhere inside your brain like you’ve forgotten something, but it’s like your whole body has just _disconnected_. Signals are firing, but there’s nothing there to receive them, you’re just… struck dumb. Truthfully, it’s only a split second that you stand there, wide eyed and frozen in place, but to you it stretches on for a lifetime.

You need to run.

Run.

Fucking MOVE!

Too late, your fight or flight response kicks in.

With one fist clenched around your towel you turn on your heels and bolt, not for the front door - it’s the middle of the night and you’re all too aware that you’re so very nearly naked, but for your parents bedroom on the other side of the hallway. The only other room with a door that locked and clothes you could quickly throw on.

But you forget, just for a second, exactly who Oikawa is.

Quick on his feet, stronger than he looks and always, _always_ one step ahead of everyone else. 

There’s a light chuckle and you hear the bed creak just a little as his weight lifts, but you can’t focus on that, only the distance between you and the doorway at the end of the hall. Adrenaline surges through your veins, urging your muscles to move faster - it’s only 30 feet away, but it’s never felt more out of reach. You slip slightly on the wooden floorboard in your blind panic, stumble - and that’s enough.

Solid arms wrap around your waist, yanking you back. You scream, kicking wildly, fingers desperately scratching at his arms, but it doesn’t make a difference. Oikawa just grunts and shifts his hold so he can smother your cries under his palm. “Shh, cutie. Don’t wanna disturb the neighbours, now do we?” he coos. 

You scream again, a muffled, pathetic sound and you hear him chuckle, actually _feel_ the gentle reverberations against your back, but it cuts off into a sharp hiss when you manage to throw an elbow right into his gut. It’s more a lucky shot than anything else - barely enough to make him pause and certainly not enough for his grip to falter. He’s yanking you back into your bedroom before you realise it, using his leg to kick the door shut behind him.

With one hand clutching the front of your towel, he shoves you effortlessly onto the soft mattress you’d been so eager to sink into only minutes before. Oikawa just smirks, those deep brown eyes slowly devouring every inch of bare skin. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen countless times before, but you fight the urge to curl up into yourself and hide from that searing gaze.

You can’t run with him blocking your door. He’s stronger than you, quicker too. You know from experience that he’s not afraid to inflict pain if you don’t play along, but you won’t cower away from him.

You won’t give him the damn satisfaction.

“Well there’s my pretty little girl, aren’t you gonna smile for your boyfriend?”

You glare and his eyes _gleam_ , “I did promise I’d win for you today.” He sheds his jacket and the turquoise tee underneath, dropping them carelessly onto the floor like he’s done a thousand times before. Oikawa’s never been the biggest player, tall and fit yes, but not built with muscle like some of the Karasuno third years were. Even so, you can’t seem to stop yourself from glancing down to his chest - the flat, toned planes of his abs, the light smattering of hair trailing from his navel down to disappear under the low waistband of his gym pants, his hips and the subtle ‘v’ that you used to find irresistible. He’d always been far too attractive for his own good… yours too.

You swallow uneasily, raising your eyes to meet his gaze once more.

He looks delighted by your inner turmoil, or maybe it's just the sight of you, naked and spread out on the bed before him. His grin widens and he brings up one finger to tap at his chin, cocking his head as if in deep thought. “You know, I think I promised I’d take care of my girl afterwards, too.”

Your stomach lurches. 

“Get out.”

He frowns, a mocking pout that makes your blood simmer. “You’re being so cold today, cutie. Are you upset because I destroyed your little boyfriend’s team on the court? What was the fun little nickname they have nowadays… ah, yes. The wingless crows.”

It hurts, the insult. It shouldn’t, you’ve only been with them for a little while, but after watching their collective hearts shatter today, the cruel moniker stings. With a thick lump lodging its way into your throat and a flush on your cheeks, you stare resolutely at the floor, blinking back the tears you refuse to shed in front of him. “You won,” you grit out. “You beat them, you made your point Oikawa, now please just- just go.”

For a moment there’s nothing but heavy silence in the room. You wonder briefly, listening to the sound of your own ragged breathing, whether you’ve said the wrong thing. He’s just as likely to laugh as he is to lash out, but bared before him as you are, you’ve never felt so vulnerable. Still, he doesn’t speak, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him to find out which it is. You flinch when the mattress dips as Oikawa slowly climbs onto it and crawls towards you. His fingers reach for your chin, jerking your head up to look at him.

Gone is the playful mockery, the smug, confident smirk. His eyes are cold and blazing, his jaw locked tight, yet he’s still smiling. “I honestly don’t care that you chose Karasuno just to spite me. I don’t give a _shit_ that you decided to join their sad little volleyball club as their manager. You don’t seem to quite get it, baby.” His fingers squeeze your jaw tight. “It doesn’t make a difference to me what school you go to or what extracurriculars you waste your time with. You’re still _mine_ , so why the fuck do you think I’d be okay with you kissing anybody else?”

Before you can even think to reply his lips are crashing against yours. Even towards the end of your relationship, Oikawa could be sweet. He’d kiss you sometimes like you were the most precious, adored creature on the planet. He’d look at you with soft, tender eyes, holding you so gently as his lips brushed against yours, and he’d smile as he pulled away just a _fraction_ , your breath mingling with his as he told you how much he loved you.

This wasn’t one of those kisses.

He was rough, bruising. Too much teeth and too much tongue. With the way he’s hovering over you, caging you in, you know that all it would take would be a quick jerk of your knee and he’d stop-

But you also remember what happened the last time you tried that, the feel of his long fingers wrapping around your throat, _squeezing_ until you were almost purple, writhing beneath him…

The bruises you’d had to hide for days afterwards, the ones that even Iwa had raised his eyebrows at - not that he’d ever lifted a finger to help you, you think bitterly.

No, you might hate yourself for it after he’s gone (God knows you’ll shower with the water hot enough to burn away the memory of his touch), but it’s better to just endure it - it’ll hurt less, in the long run. You don’t even realise that you’re crying, not until he pulls away with a breathless gasp and sighs, thumbing away the silvery tears that drip down your flushed cheeks.

“I hate you,” you whisper.

He grinds his hips against yours, and you can already feel his arousal pressing intently against your thigh. “You love me,” he replies, pressing another, much sweeter kiss against your reddened, swollen lips. “You might be acting like a petulant little _brat_ lately, but that much hasn’t changed.”

And then his index and middle fingers are sliding past your lips into your mouth. You choke a little at the sudden intrusion, but Oikawa’s eyes just darken in delight. “Suck,” he commands.

And you do, tongue wrapping around the digits as if to lick them clean. It’s degrading, humiliating, but it’s better than the alternative.

At least he’s not shoving them down your throat. 

Oikawa moans softly as your cheeks hollow out, “Good girl.” You get the feeling that if he wasn’t using his other hand to prop himself up, it would be running through your hair. He leaves his fingers there for a moment, letting your tongue work up and down the digits before he slides them out, eyeing the strand of spit that trails from the tip of his fingers to your wet lips.

“Don’t cry, cutie. I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he croons, shuffling slightly down your body so that he can wedge himself between your creamy thighs. “Nothing but the best for my girl, I promise.”

He nuzzles into your neck, kissing the soft skin as his wet fingers creep over your mound. You gasp as his thumb finds your clit, flicking the sensitive nub-

The sound turns into a strangled yelp as his teeth sink into your neck at the same time as his saliva slicked fingers plunge into your pussy. It’s already too much, your hands fist at your sheets, your back instinctively arching up - you weren’t ready and it _hurts_ , but Oikawa’s never been one to care about your comfort.

He laughs as you whimper, easing up on your neck only for his tongue to lave at the wound - an insincere attempt to soothe the bite mark, but you can’t even focus on that when his fingers begin to move inside of you. With his thumb toying cruelly with your clit his digits slide back out of you for a split second, only to dive back in with reckless abandon. He isn’t trying to tease you, he’s not even trying to prepare you - this is punishment. 

“You’re still so tight for me, sweetheart,” he groans, hunching over slightly so that he can focus his attention on your tits, the dusky nipples that pebble under his hot breath. His fingers scissor and you gasp in pain and Oikawa just buries his face between your breasts, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin between breathless kisses. 

“Oi-Oikawa, please,” you beg when the calloused pads of his fingertips brush against your gummy walls. “Please- Tooru!”

“Say it again,” he growls, his voice rough and unsteady. You risk a glance downwards and he already looks half undone. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, his eyes bright and blown wide and his hair mussed, but even with his mouth busy sucking a hickey on your breast he grins up at you, leering and ravenous.

“Tooru!” you sob.

Still, he doesn’t stop. His thumb is rubbing quick, relentless circles against your clit, his fingers working away at your core - he’s doing everything he can to bring you to the edge and you hate him, because it’s working. Your walls are becoming slick, squelching with every flick of his wrist. There’s that feeling in the pit of your stomach, the warm ball of pleasure that pulses inside of you. 

He’s the first and only person to have ever touched you like this. He knows your body like the back of his own hand - he knows how to read you, how to coax you to the edge. He waits until you’re on the very precipice, flushed, whimpering and teary beneath him, writhing as your walls tighten around his fingers… and then he pulls out. 

You’re powerless to stop the shameful whine that leaves your lips as that building pleasure is snatched right from underneath you, leaving you empty and _aching_. You half expect for him to laugh at you, mock you for being such a desperate little whore for him, but when you risk another glance at him, Tooru is staring at you with wild eyes, biting his bottom lip and breathing heavily, his cock straining hard against the fabric of his sweatpants.

He doesn’t say a word as he sits up and roughly grabs at your waist. You can only squeak as he flips you over and drags your hips up, shoving your head down into the mattress. With his knees he nudges your trembling legs apart, settling himself between them.

You hear the sound of fabric shifting behind you followed by a low groan. He doesn’t bother shedding his pants, choosing instead to yank them down just enough to free his cock. You shudder as he drags his weeping cockhead against your dripping slit, lining himself up.

“Tooru,” you plead, stomach fluttering uneasily. “W-wait-”

“I love you,” he hisses, cutting you off as he slams his aching cock inside your tight heat. “Love you so much- fuuuuck,” he moans.

Oh god. You’re robbed of your breath from the force of the thrust - it hurts so much! Tears sting in your eyes, but there’s also that feeling of incredible fullness that makes your head spin. It’s inescapable. You can feel him pulsing inside of you, the warmth of him feeling you radiating through your entire body. He’s kind enough to allow you to adjust - it’s been months since he’s last fucked you, and he doesn’t want to break you _just_ yet. 

You can feel every inch his cock nestled deep inside of you, right down to the subtle curve that had the tip of his cock bumping up against that one spot that makes you see _stars_. You’re a shivering mess beneath him, and he hasn’t even started to move yet.

Instead he leans over you, sweeping the hair that had fallen across your face back over your neck so that he could see you properly. He sighs, his fingertips lingering for just a second before he presses a kiss between your shoulder blades. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture, one that’s belied only a moment later when he grabs at your wrist to twist your arm harshly behind your back and pin you down. 

“I’ve been thinking about fucking this pretty pussy all day. Do you have any idea how distracting that was - trying to focus on the game when all I could think about was this perfect, syrupy cunt wrapping around my cock?” he asks, his grip tightening as you shift beneath him. 

He draws his hips back slowly, only to snap his hips back against your ass with frightening intensity. You shriek and howl, but there’s nowhere for you to go. Your free hand claws at your sheets, trying to find some kind of purchase as Oikawa drives his hips furiously against yours, each thrust hitting too deep, too fast. It’s like he wants to split you apart on his cock, ruin you so that nobody else will ever be able to touch you without you thinking of this moment, of him. “P-please, Tooru-”

“What’s that, cutie? Got something you wanna say?” he mocks, delivering a particularly vicious thrust that has you screaming. His balls slap against your bare ass, his weight bearing down on you as he fucks you into the mattress. It should hurt, and it does, but at the same time you can’t deny that it feels fucking _amazing_. Each drag of his dick against your slick, gummy walls only adds to the warmth flickering in your gut, and when the tip of his cockhead brushes against your g-spot you can’t help but convulse and tighten around him, moaning like a wanton whore. Oikawa knows your body better than anyone, he grins when you shiver, squeezing your eyes shut like you’re trying to force yourself to dissociate from all of this. 

His hand tightens warningly on the back of your neck, “Stay with me, baby. We’re not done yet.”

You force your eyes open, looking up at him from where he has your face shoved into the mattress. He’s got his tongue poked out between his lips as he fucks you, but it’s the lovesick adoration that swims in those chocolate brown eyes of his that makes your stomach lurch. Even fucking you like a bitch in heat, Oikawa stares at you like you’re the only girl in the world.

There’s a biting retort waiting on the tip of your tongue, but Oikawa suddenly shifts your thighs wider apart, bottoming out and all that comes out of your mouth is a breathy moan. Your cunt shudders around his thick member and he moans in tandem with you, “You wanna cum, Y/N?”

You hate him. You hate him so fucking much, but all you can think about is the building pleasure between your thighs, the incredible feeling of him grinding his hips into you-

“Yes,” you gasp out, arching your back as much as he’ll allow.

Oikawa’s grin widens, his thumb brushing comfortingly against your neck but he doesn’t slow the rhythmic pace he’s set. “It’s okay, you can cum for me, baby.”

All at once, that hot, tight ball of pleasure inside of you explodes and you hurtle off the edge with a keening cry, tears spilling down your cheeks.

Oikawa curses as your orgasm rips through you, your cunny walls pulsing around his length, sucking him in deeper. He’d planned on pulling out so he could paint his seed on your pretty tits, or maybe spill his load onto your tongue and make you swallow it, but as the aftershocks of your peak ripple through your pussy and you let out a mewling moan suddenly he can’t seem bring himself to stop. He wrenches you up off the mattress, curling an arm around your waist to keep your back pressed up against him. His other hand reaches for your jaw, turning your face so he can attack your lips once more. “Mine, you’re fucking- you’re fucking mine!” he gasps out between kisses, punctuating each word with a deep thrust.

It’s too much, you’re too sensitive, too wound up, but Oikawa doesn’t care as he chases his end, pounding into you like there’s no tomorrow.

“Tooru, please, I-I can’t-”

But the sound of his name on your lips as he buries his cock into your drenched pussy is enough to undo him entirely. He cums with a stuttered curse, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his hot seed coats your insides, lazily pumping his cock into you a few more times.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is your harsh breaths intermingling with each other. Neither of you move - he’s still lost in the heady pleasure of his orgasm and you’re just… in a daze. He doesn’t let you go though, not even as he pulls his softening member out and tucks himself back away. 

You’re trembling in his arms, you realise as he nuzzles his face against your neck. Your cheeks are wet with tears, but you honestly don’t know if they’re from pain, humiliation or the intense, orgasmic fucking your ex boyfriend just subjected you to. You feel like you’re seconds away from shattering entirely, but he won’t let you go.

Instead he kisses you, pulling you down to lie on the mattress beside him. He’s much sweeter, now that he’s gotten what he came for, brushing your hair away from your eyes, smiling in the afterglow like this was something you both wanted. He leans forward just a smidge to press a quick kiss against your nose, laughing when you scrunch your face up and recoil. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, his eyes wandering your flushed face, and you know that he truly believes it.

It doesn’t make you feel any less sick being trapped in his arms. 

His smile widens, and you can almost see the shift in his eyes as his expression turns mischievous, “Such a pretty sight, it’d be a shame not to capture it, don’t you think?”

You frown, but before you can ask what he means, he’s reaching into the pocket of his sweats, pulling out his phone and unlocking it with a swipe of his finger. 

Too late, your eyes widen, cold dread flooding your veins. “No, wait-”

“Smile, cutie!” he says cheerily, holding the phone up high as he steals another kiss from your lips. You hear the tell tale click of the camera, and your heart just plummets. Too slow, you pull away, shoving him off of you.

Oikawa hardly seems bothered, already propping himself up onto his side, flicking through the app to see the picture he’d just taken. “Aw, we make such a cute couple, don’t you think baby?” he asks, flipping his phone around to show you.

You gulp. The picture’s a little blurry, but it hardly matters. It’s clearly you and Oikawa, lips locked. You don’t know what’s worse, the flushed, dazed look on your face, the glaring bite marks and hickeys that litter your neck, the fact that the angle’s low enough that it’s obvious to anybody looking that you’re both not wearing clothes, or the way that the entire picture screams ‘just got fucked’. 

It might just be the blissful, contented smile on Oikawa’s face as he kisses you.

Your mouth feels bone dry as you raise your eyes from the screen to his face. You open your mouth, floundering for words but you can’t seem to be able to say anything at all. It doesn’t look like a picture with a girl who's just been raped by her psychotic, obsessive ex, it looks… it looks _bad_.

Oikawa takes your stunned silence in stride. He reaches for you, cupping your cheek in his warm palm, and you- you just let him. What’s the point of fighting back now? “You seem to know Karasuno pretty well by now, Y/N,” he begins with malicious glee. “Tell me, how do you think they’d react to the news that their new beloved manager had sex the same night their hopes and dreams of nationals were crushed with the Captain of the very team that destroyed them?”

You choke on your breath, and his grin just widens, dark eyes glinting. “Or… you come back to me, and I keep this pretty little picture to myself, add it to my own _private_ collection. The choice is yours, cutie.”

The words hang in the air. Your heart thuds unsteadily in your chest as you stare at him. It’s such a small thing, a stupid, slightly off centre, blurry photo. 

But you know he’s right.

If anyone from Karasuno saw that picture, if it ever found its way to the volleyball club… it would break their hearts.

Suga’s most of all.

Your stomach twists into knots and you can feel the nausea start to flood through you at the very thought of it - the betrayal and disgust in their eyes when they looked at you. They’d hate you, and you wouldn’t even be able to blame them for that. Karasuno had become your home, your safe haven, those boys were your friends. You- you loved them.

This would be just about the worst thing you could do to them. They’d kick you out of the club, and even if they didn’t, how were you ever supposed to face them again?

You think of Koushi kissing you only an hour ago on your porch, the soft, sweet smile he’d given you as he’d pulled away, his hand still wrapped around yours. You think of the bus rides to Sendai, laughing with Nishinoya and Tanaka while Daichi just rolls his eyes and Yamaguchi snickers with Tsukki. Being in the gym tossing balls for the boys to spike, the sense of pride you feel whenever they land one perfectly. Walking home with the other third years, Suga’s arm slung over your shoulders, your head resting against his chest… 

You drag your eyes back up from the phone to look at him. He’s watching you intently, savouring every delightful moment of your torment with a wide, victorious smirk. He knows your answer as well as you do. 

Slowly he opens his arms wide, silently beckoning you.

You don’t really have a choice, do you? 

Another tear slips silently down your cheek, but you gingerly push yourself up onto your hands and knees. It hurts a little to move, there’s a throbbing ache between your legs but you ignore it as best you can as you make your way over to him. 

If he’s bothered by the cold glare in your eyes as you let him wrap his arms around your waist and tuck you against his chest, he doesn’t show it. He just hums contentedly, fingers gliding along the bare skin of your back in a loving caress as he rests his cheek against your hair and smiles.

“Good girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I hope you guys enjoyed it, comments and kudos always appreciated - as always feel free to come say hi on tumblr - yanderexbabydoll 💖

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it - comments and kudos are always appreciated!


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